


Simple Gifts

by larryatendoftheday



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dystopia, Enemies to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, discussion of jay's passing, handy Harry Styles, harry just loves to help, honestly this whole fic is very g rated other than swear words, let's make somebody smile today, louis is a dick at the start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24333082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryatendoftheday/pseuds/larryatendoftheday
Summary: After the world as Louis knows it falls apart, he focuses on surviving. Then one day he meets someone who doesn't follow any of the rules.Or the fic where Louis realizes the end of the world doesn't mean you stop living.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89
Collections: harry + louis dystopian fic fest round 2





	Simple Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> I think this little story is more relevant than ever in our current world. Sending love to everyone. <3
> 
> Please note no archive warnings really apply unless you count discussing Jay's death as a major character death. I just didn't want to mislead anyone by marking it that way.
> 
> Thank you to my ever-patient editor @userkant. The title comes from the Shaker song "Simple Gifts."

A bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and Louis groaned as he got to his feet, trying to kick the biggest chunks of mud from his shoes. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sorry, I can’t walk with you today,” Liam said from behind him.

“What?” In the five years they had worked together, Louis couldn’t remember a day he walked home without Liam. They lived in the same place, after all, and it wasn’t like before, when he was young. There wasn’t anywhere to go now.

“I got an errand to do.” He shrugged, indicating in the opposite direction from home.

“What type of errand do you have to run, mate? You gonna drop your clothes off at the _dry cleaners_?” Louis laughed. It was absurd. Half the population didn’t even have enough food or proper waste-water systems, and the rest were always a few storms away from joining the first half. “You gonna go buy an iPhone?” he cackled, slapping his leg. Dried mud flaked off at the impact. “You gonna see a movie?” At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was even funny anymore, but he was still laughing.

Liam wasn’t, though. His lips were twisted in a wry little smile. “Nah, man. It’s my nephew’s sixth birthday. That’s when kids start making memories, you know? I wanted to get him something.”

The laughter dying in his mouth, Louis stared at him. How many birthdays had passed that he wished he could have gotten his sisters something? There just wasn’t anything to give. Birthdays were sad affairs. You’d light a twig on fire and let them blow it out after you sang. If you knew someone handy you could get a whittled toy, maybe. You’d make sure bellies were full even if that meant the next night they wouldn’t be. He bit his lip. “Where are you gonna find something?”

Liam scuffed his foot in the dirt and shrugged. “There’s this guy.”

“Well, I’ll come with.”

Louis didn’t leave room for Liam to argue. He just linked arms with him and marched down the road he had nodded at before. Liam walked silently until Louis started steering him toward the part of town he didn’t like.

“No, god, Louis. You’re such a nuisance. It’s this way.”

Some twenty minutes later they reached the outskirts of their village, where the houses were farther apart and the forest was untamed.

“Nearly there,” Liam puffed. “I can hear ‘im.”

Louis frowned. Hear him? He listened intently and heard the faintest bit of singing. “He sings?”

“Yeah.” Liam smiled. “He does a bit of everything.”

“Is he any good at any of it? You know what they say: jack of all trades, master of—”

Liam cut him off. “He’s good, okay? Don’t be rude.”

The singing was clear now, and just a bit ahead Louis could make out a figure sitting on a porch. He was sitting against a tree that was growing between the planks of the porch and singing with his eyes closed. His hair was a curly halo around his head.

“Does this guy even have a job?” he whispered.

Liam elbowed him. “Be good.” Putting on his friendly voice, Liam called out, “Hey, Harry! Nice tune.”

The man’s eyes opened, and he grinned. “Thank you! Good evening, lads. How are you doing?”

“Doing just fine,” Liam said with a nod. Louis nodded, too. “And how about you? Doing okay?”

“Yessir,” the man, Harry, said in a slow drawl. “Got some good stuff today.”

“Yeah?” Liam looked excited. “That’s good for me. I’m hoping to get something for my nephew. It’s his sixth birthday.”

Harry had been smiling the whole time, really, but at this his mouth got even bigger, smile even brighter. “A sixth birthday! That’s big! He’ll definitely have memories of this.”

“That’s what I was saying!” Liam said, looking to Louis.

Louis nodded again, adding, “He did say that.”

“Well, let’s see what we’ve got.” Harry stood, and they all stepped inside.

Herbs hung from the ceiling in bunches, and tiny containers filled the walls. There was a long table covered in tools and scraps of wood in the center of the room. The wood-burning stove and an icebox in the corner stood out amongst the clutter on every other available surface.

Harry was puttering around the space, fingers landing on an item and then moving on just as quickly. “Hmmmm. Well, I did find some berries today. You can have those. Or you can have this little cobbler I whipped up with a few of them.” He pulled it out of the ice box with a flourish, and Louis’ mouth watered at the sight. “It’s probably only enough for him, but it’s still pretty good.” He hummed some more, eyes flicking around the room. “I think I have the pieces to put together a little toy car, or I already have a kaleidoscope ready.” Harry gestured to another wall where all kinds of items hung.

“The kaleidoscope would be fun, I think,” Liam said. “Can I see it?”

Harry handed him a funny little tube of rusted metal and winked. “I think that’s a good choice.”

Liam looked through the tube and smiled. “Yeah, this is it.”

“Wonderful. Wish the little man happy birthday for me, eh?”

“I will. Definitely. He’ll love this.”

Louis wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Was Liam going to trade for this, pay in some way? Did Harry know him well enough to give him things? Louis had never heard of this Harry guy before from anyone, yet alone Liam.

Before he could think it through too far, Harry’s gaze was on him. “Are you looking for anything?”

Louis shook his head. “Nah, just came along.”

“You sure? I did just find this old football.”

Louis couldn’t help the spark of interest that must have passed over his face. How long had it been since he’d seen a _real_ football, not just a sad approximation? “A football?”

“Yeah! It needed a patch and some air, but I fixed it up.” Harry ducked through a door as he spoke, returning with the ball in his hands. The white and black was faded but still visible. It was glorious. He tossed it to Louis, and when he caught it, it felt right. Maybe a bit worse for wear—but it was the real thing.

Louis swallowed. He was itching to get it between his feet, to run with it, see it fly through the air. He wanted that ball, but he didn’t want to take something from this strange man with weird clutter and a far-too-easy smile. He kept his tone light. “Cool find, man. I’m good though.” He tossed the ball back and saw a flicker of disappointment cross Harry’s face.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll leave you these, Harry,” Liam said. He pulled a handful of things out of his pocket and placed them on the table, and Harry seemed far too delighted considering it looked like some acorns and a spring.

“Those are lovely. Thank you, Liam. I’ve been craving some acorn bread.”

Liam smiled. “I knew you’d have a use for those.”

“Always do, don’t I?” Harry chuckled.

“Well, we’ll be off then. Thank you, Harry.”

“Anytime. Have a good night!”

Louis bobbed his head in a silent goodbye, then started walking immediately. It was nearing dusk already and his feet were aching from a long day. Plus, he didn’t much like that Harry’s company.

Liam jogged to catch up with him. “Cool guy, right?”

“Is he? Is he cool?”

“Oh, you don’t think so?”

“He’s a bit odd. What’s his deal?”

“He just scavenges and then makes things to make people happy.”

“Make people happy….”

“Yeah. Isn’t that lovely?”

“Not really, Liam,” Louis scoffed. “I have a feeling that hippie doesn’t have a job, huh?”

“I mean…not a job like us, no.”

“Right.” Louis rolled his eyes. “So while we slave away in the mud to make sure people have safe waste disposal and clean water, he’s making tiny tarts?”

“Everyone does their part—”

“Everyone does their part—except him. We work so hard to keep everyone fed, clothed, warm, and safe. He’s not helping anyone with that silly shit of his.”

“We’re human, Lou. We need more than just food and clothes.”

“It’s not like I want to be in the mud and shit every day, Liam, but I do what I have to do. We all do what we have to do to survive. He can piss off with his weird little witch hut.”

Liam pressed his lips together in a hard line and didn’t say anything. They made their way home in silence, parting with a nod when they reached their respective homes. As always, crossing the threshold of his house was perilous. Within seconds, he was bombarded with questions and too tangled in the limbs of his siblings to walk. He pulled on a smile and tried to listen, but his mind was stuck on Liam.

He couldn’t care less that Liam was mad. Louis was _right_. Harry could do work that mattered, but instead he did little crafts. It was selfish.

~~~~

On the way to work the next morning, Liam said that the kaleidoscope had gone over well with his nephew. Louis grinned at that. He would be ready to act amazed when the kid showed it to him. Regardless of what he thought of Harry, he could appreciate the magic of a new toy.

They nodded at other workers on their way to keep their world turning—farmers, builders, doctors, teachers, traders, and messengers. So many other jobs from before were meaningless. There was no need for bankers when money meant nothing, no need for lawyers when the law was no longer no longer upheld. Murder and stealing were bad. Helping everyone stay alive was good. That was the law now, and it was entirely enforced by the fear of no longer belonging.

Louis did what he could. He came home sore every single day and let the kids eat first. When it was too cold, he gave them his blankets, and when they asked questions about the world beyond their village, he did his best to answer. He just did what everyone else did.

~~~~

Soon enough winter arrived, and when the cold ran bone-deep, the village came together to cut ice. They had learned to survive without electricity like their ancestors from books. There was so much they had to relearn in fumbling attempts those first few years after reality sank in. But by now they understood what to do.

The strongest people went out into the middle to slice through the thickest layer of ice. Others floated the ice along channels to the shore. Then others levered the blocks onto a cart and drove to an icehouse. The elders layered ice blocks deep in the ground between layers of hay and sawdust that the children spread with glee.

Everyone did their part because they all needed ice. Ice was how they kept their food from spoiling, especially during the warm months. It was also how they reduced swelling on injuries without medicine. Ice was more important than Louis would have ever imagined before.

Since Louis was strong, brawny from years of digging dirt and heaving pipes, he always volunteered to cut the ice. This year as he found his rhythm he happened to glance up and see that strange man, Harry, nearby. It shocked him, and he should have kept his mouth shut, but he was never good at that.

“Harry?”

The man looked up, a curl escaping from his hood and flopping across his forehead. “Oh, hi!” His breath hung frozen in front of him as his lips curled into a smile. “I don’t think I ever caught your name…?”

He was so friendly, so polite. Louis hated it. He landed a particularly effective blow on the ice, earning him a “nice” from a few people nearby. “I’m Louis.”

“Nice to finally meet you properly, Louis,” he said. The way he said ‘Louis’ was so _northern_. He somehow managed to pronounce even fewer letters. The name was all vowels in his mouth.

“Didn’t figure I’d see you here,” Louis muttered, hacking at the ice with more brutality than it really required.

“Everyone helps with the ice!”

“Well, everyone helps with everything,” Louis rolled his eyes and mumbled “except you” under his breath.

Harry was quiet, which was fine, until Louis realized there weren’t any chopping sounds from him either. He glanced up and was met by Harry’s gaze immediately. It was hard to see what his eyes were saying with the fur of his hood fluttering in front like a veil.

“You…alright?” Louis asked, not sure what to say. His own chopping came to a halt.

“Do you have a problem with me, Louis?” Harry’s voice was curious, more than anything, but his broad shoulders rolled back as he stood up a little straighter.

Louis scoffed. “No need for small talk. Let’s just chop ice, eh?”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and he nodded slowly. “Okay.” He had clearly come to the conclusion that Louis _did_ have a problem with him, and he wasn’t wrong.

They turned back to their work, and Louis found himself trying to compete with Harry, pushing himself faster and faster until sweat was forming and freezing on his brow. He couldn’t let Harry, the guy who wouldn’t even contribute to society, show him up at chopping ice.

But eventually he felt dizzy and was forced to pause to catch his breath. When he looked up, Harry was smirking at the ice while he worked.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Louis asked.

Harry glanced up at Louis, and his smirk only grew wider. “Oh, nothing.”

“Fuck off,” Louis mumbled, leaning on his tool and breathing heavily. Harry chuckled and just kept working—which was infuriating. “How are you so strong just from gathering berries all day?” Harry barked a laugh, a genuine one it seemed like, but he didn’t respond so Louis pressed. “I’m serious!”

“Oh.” Harry paused. “Well, I don’t just collect berries. I also chop wood for my neighbors and do metal working and haul things I find around. I do a lot of different stuff, and I guess it adds up.”

Louis just stared at him, breath still coming in pants. “Oh.”

Harry shrugged and started working again. Apparently, he was a strong hippie. At least he was useful to his neighbors and, once a year, to the rest of the community. Harry could actually put that strength to use if he got a job. What a waste of a perfectly fit young body. ~~~~

Having finally caught his breath, Louis returned to chopping ice, working at a comfortable pace this time because he didn’t care to compete with someone morally inferior anyway. Harry’s quick blade moved him further and further away, and that was just fine.

~~~~

Louis spent a lot of time carefully ignoring thinking about the way things had changed, but sometimes, when he lay awake at night with no phone to mindlessly scroll through or text messages to respond to, the differences were too stark to ignore.

Before, there was fun and silliness. Every worry from before seemed so trivial now. He wanted to go back in time and tell his younger self not to worry about what he would do with his life; that would be decided for him by factors far beyond his control. He would work to keep his family safe and fed, to make sure their society remained standing. He wanted to tell his younger self to spend longer on the field after football practice and enjoy the days he stayed in bed all afternoon.

Because when the world changed, it came suddenly. He used to think it would return to normal—they all did. But slowly they settled into a new normal and began to accept that there was no going back. There was just before and after.

It was strange, sometimes, having lived in such a different world once upon a time. Louis certainly wasn’t alone in that. Every adult over a certain age had lived _before_ , in a world that moved at lightning speed, unafraid of change.

But Louis lived with six people young enough to not remember much—or even anything—of the world before. They would never know the excitement and chaos of music festivals or the way the world looked lit up by streetlights. They had never sent an email, never seen an orange. There was so much his siblings would never see, or taste, or know.

They only knew the world after.

In the world after, there were candles instead of lights, and scarcity instead of excess. In the world after, money meant nothing; it couldn’t be eaten or slept on. In the world after, Louis didn’t smoke…because there wasn’t anything _to_ smoke. Any tobacco that did get to England definitely didn’t make it to Doncaster.

Louis couldn’t complain about not having crisps or smokes, though, because other people didn’t have medication or a way to contact loved ones living farther than a few towns away. Louis knew he was lucky, even if most nights he didn’t feel that way.

In the world after, there was just today and tomorrow. There was only what you could find or grow or make. There was only surviving.

But sometimes even that was too much, too hard.

Today was the anniversary of his mother’s death. He had always wondered whether, if she had been sick in in the before, things would have been different. Instead, his mom was sick in the after, in the world devoid of hospitals and fancy medicine, and his mom didn’t make it.

He only let himself mope once a year. Every other day he sucked it up.

Slowly, quietly, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and rose. He shivered as he crept past other sleeping bodies towards the door, snagging his coat and slipping outside. Lying in the dark with his thoughts was too much. He needed a walk.

He didn’t pay much attention to where he was going. He just walked. When the sun came up he could start worrying about getting to work, but right now he didn’t have to plan ahead. For once, he could just be.

Everything was quiet, perfectly still save for the occasional breeze, so Louis was startled when he saw something large moving out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward the shadow so quickly he almost tripped, adrenaline sharpening every sense.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” a voice whispered. “It’s just me.”

Louis was relieved to hear a human voice rather than the growl of an animal, but he kept his guard up. “Who?”

“It’s Harry.” And as his eyes focused, Louis did see the outline of curly hair and a lean frame in the darkness.

“Oh. Well, good morning.”

Harry stifled a giggle. “It’s not really morning, yet.”

“No, I suppose not.” Louis wasn’t sure what to say, standing there in the middle of the night alone with someone they both knew he didn’t like. “Well, good night.” He started walking again to get away from Harry. His peaceful wanderings were ruined, now.

“Are you going to bed?” Harry asked his back.

Louis’ steps halted. “No.” Harry really did talk a lot despite talking incredibly slowly, and now he was interrupting Louis’ exit.

“Well then you can’t say good night, can you?”

Oh, for fucks sake. Harry was right in the technical sense, of course, but Louis had just been trying to leave politely. He took a deep calming breath. “Okay.” If his voice sounded steely, it was because Harry was the worst.

“You should say ‘good evening’.”

“Okay.”

“Or, well, ‘good evening’ would be to say hello.”

“Right.”

“But you could say ‘have a good evening’ to say goodbye.”

“Okay.”

There was a silence, and for a brief, incredible moment, Louis felt relief. But then Harry kept talking. “I don’t think anyone thought this through. How do you greet someone in the middle of the night?”

“I’m sure it’s not particularly common,” Louis said, contempt bleeding into his voice.

“Right. Right. Not nearly as common as all the usual times during the day. I’ll keep thinking about it, though. I’ll tell you when I have a better answer.”

The blatant disregard for Louis’ disinterest was actually rather amusing, he decided. Combined with the annoyingly specific curiosity? Almost charming. Almost. He rolled his eyes. “Okay, curly.”

“Sounds good, blue eyes.”

That was new. Louis wished there was light, wished if he turned around he could see Harry’s face. Louis turned toward Harry anyway. He didn’t understand how this practical stranger—to whom he had made no secret of his dislike—knew or cared what his eye color was.

His curiosity formed itself into words before he could stop them. “Why are you up, anyway?”

“Decorating Jenna’s porch. Her baby was born yesterday.”

“Oh. I hadn’t heard. That’s good news.”

“Yeah! I’m so happy for her. The midwives all know me ‘n keep me updated on babies so I can do this.”

Oh. Louis’ mom had been a midwife. He bit his lip harshly. “Very nice. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I hope so! I just try to make people smile.”

Louis nodded, trying not to cry thinking about how much his mother had loved babies and how hard she had worked to make other people smile. She used to tell Louis, “let’s make someone smile today.” When everything was going wrong, she found happiness in making other people happy. ~~~~

“Why are _you_ up?” Harry’s voice cut through his thoughts.

He opened his mouth but felt a lump there too big to speak around. Swallowing roughly, he shrugged and scuffed his feet. It was getting hard to breathe, but when he opened his mouth to drag in a thin gasp, it made a tiny, awful noise, like someone about to cry. ~~~~

“Louis?” Harry stepped closer to him, and Louis cursed his traitorous body for giving him away. He knew that if he opened his mouth to respond, there would only be sobs. So he swallowed and tried to make it go away, tried to ignore the feeling of Harry’s gaze on him even in the darkness.

“Louis? Is everything alright?” Harry’s voice was gentle.

Louis nodded jerkily, but Harry only came closer and reached out to grasp Louis’ arms.

“Louis—Lou—it’s okay.” He tugged Louis against his chest, and Louis’ tears finally started to fall. He couldn’t hold them in any longer, and he couldn’t—didn’t want to—fight off Harry’s embrace.

He sobbed into Harry’s chest, hands clutching his coat. Every new wave of tears was met with Harry’s hushed whispers and soothing touch. It was easy to just accept the comfort and let the tears fall. It felt so good to be held.

When every tear had been wrung from his body, his face was puffy and raw. His nose had run all over Harry’s jacket, but he didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed. “I’m tired,” he said, instead. Harry whispered, “I bet,” and walked him to a warm bed. Louis was asleep the moment he slipped under the sheets.

~~~~

Dapples of sunlight woke him slowly. He could hear the breeze in the trees outside, but he was safe and warm under his blankets. He smelled something lovely, like pancakes on a griddle. It felt like a dream.

Of course, the previous night slowly came back to him, and when he went to stand up, he realized that he was not in his own home at all. Normally, his siblings woke him with fighting or fingers up his nose. This house was different. It was smaller, quieter. And in a box by the wall was a football, the football he had wanted so badly but refused to take.

He stalled, wondering if he could get out the window. He did not want to face Harry and his room of dried plants and knickknacks. He did not want to face the person who had held him while he sobbed, either.

Louis tugged on the window, expecting it to be hard to open, only for it to spring up with a loud bang. He barely contained the squeak that came out as he leapt back.

There was a knock on the door. “You alright?”

“Yes.” 

“Can I come in?”

Louis sighed. “Yes.”

Harry opened the door and leaned his hip against the frame. “I love fresh air in the morning, too. This time of year, it’s so _crisp_. Refreshing, really.”

Louis wanted to roll his eyes. Instead he nodded. “Mhmm.”

“I’ve got some breakfast for you out here.” Harry gestured to behind himself and disappeared out of sight.

It would be rude to say no, and it did smell good…. Louis got up and followed Harry out into the front room. One end of the long table was cleared of clutter and set with two plates of what looked like pancakes, but they couldn’t be.

“Are those…” Louis couldn’t even bring himself to ask. It felt ridiculous. Where would Harry have even gotten the ingredients? More importantly, why would he waste them on a random day—on Louis?

“Yes, pancakes!” Harry said with a flourish. “Now, they are definitely a different recipe, but I’ve been told they still scratch that itch.” He smiled, eyes soft and excited.

“Wow.” Louis was skeptical, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t also a tiny bit impressed. Sitting down on the bench, he eyed his meal. He had a small stack of pancakes, a handful of dried berries, and a glass of water. There was honey on the table, too. It seemed too nice, like a special occasion. He swallowed. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry nodded, chin ducking down to hide what appeared to be a blush on his cheeks. “You’re welcome. Thanks for the water.”

Louis took a second to process that. “Oh, you know I do the pipes?”

“Yeah. You work with Liam, right? Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Louis swallowed. “You’re welcome.” Harry was never quite what he expected.

The pancakes turned out to be surprisingly delicious. He begrudgingly told Harry so. Harry just grinned, his oversize front teeth pressed into his bottom lip and a dimple folded into his cheek. Up close like this, his eyes sparkled, not that Louis cared.

Louis did the washing up, determined to be useful. Harry stood nearby pretending to work on some beads while he kept an eye on Louis, predicting every question and answering it before Louis could even open his mouth. It was infuriating that he guessed right every time, and even more annoying that Louis couldn’t just figure out how to wash dishes in a stranger’s house, but at least Harry looked serene, no trace of bother in his features.

When Louis finished cleaning up, he steeled himself and turned to Harry. “Thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to do all this. I appreciate your generosity.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, smile falling for a moment. “Of course, Louis.”

“I have no idea what time it is, but I must be late for work. I should get going.”

“I sent them a message that you weren’t feeling well so no one would worry.”

Louis sputtered. “What?”

“I just had my neighbor who does pipes pass it along. I had his husband tell your family you were safe with me, too. Didn’t want anyone to worry.”

Louis blinked, words impossible to form. How did Harry know his family? It was a small enough village, but not _that_ small, certainly.

“You can go work if you want, but I’m sure no one will be surprised if you take today off.”

Louis hadn’t taken a day off since his mom died. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

Harry got up and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You can stay here with me today, if you’d like. It’s a nice change of pace, I’m told.” Dropping his hand, he smiled and continued past Louis into his bedroom. He returned with the football. “You can also play with this.”

Louis still didn’t have anything coherent to say. Harry had taken Louis home, let him sleep in his bed. Harry had made sure his family wasn’t worried. Harry had cooked Louis breakfast and held him while he cried and never asked for an explanation. He had done all that for a virtual stranger.

It didn’t matter that Louis was speechless, though, because Harry wasn’t waiting for an answer. He sat down at his table and began sorting through a bucket of stones. Louis just stared at him.

After a long moment, Louis decided to go outside and play football, even if it meant admitting Harry was right. He kicked the ball around the dusty road for a while, reflecting on the strange man inside. He didn’t understand him, but he didn’t exactly want to leave. So he stayed.

The morning passed quietly. Louis read a book from Harry’s shelf, then helped him sort pieces of rubber by size. For lunch, Harry boiled tiny eggs and ducked outside for greens he dressed in vinegar. While they ate, Louis asked questions. Where did Harry find this stuff? How did he figure out how to use it? Harry talked in a slow meandering way, patiently explaining everything. The afternoon slipped by much the same. Louis asked more questions and watched as Harry tinkered with things. He really was very good with his hands.

When the bells rang to signal the end of the workday, Harry rose up and stretched his back, then walked out onto his front porch and sat down against the tree there. It was nearly identical to the way Louis had first seen him. Louis sat down against the house but startled when Harry started to sing. His voice was rich, much better than Louis had taken the time to notice before. At some point, Louis joined in. Their voices shone together.

Some people came by, and each time Harry greeted them warmly then took them inside. They left with toys, decorations, games, jewelry, and treats. After a couple came by looking for an instrument and left with a decent ukulele, Harry settled down on the porch next to Louis instead of his usual perch.

“I like your voice,” he said.

Louis cringed. He was so caught up in the songs that he forgot Harry could hear his voice. “Oh. No need to say that. You have a great voice.”

“No, I complimented you because I mean it.”

“Okay.”

There were a few beats of silence. Harry looked off into the sunset. “Your mom taught me that.”

Louis’ head snapped toward Harry. “What?”

“Your mom taught me to say what you mean. Especially with compliments, why hold back? Make someone smile. I love that.”

Louis swallowed around the lump in his throat and let his head fall back against the house. “You knew my mom.” It wasn’t a question, but it almost sounded like one.

“The midwives love me. I help them keep spirits up after a baby is born. It’s hard, having a kid in this new world. Everything is different, and sometimes that is really sad for new moms.”

Louis remembered his mom talking about how hard it was to comfort women when they were coming to terms with the life their child would have. It wouldn’t be one they had ever imagined. She said that decorating helped. Harry. Harry must have decorated. Harry must have helped.

Harry looked at Louis. “I’m sorry she’s gone.”

“Me too.” Louis’ voice cracked. “Me too.”

~~~

The next morning, no one seemed bothered by his absence at work. Liam gave him a hug and ruffled his hair, and then everything went on as normal. But it wasn’t normal anymore.

After work, he told Liam he wanted to take a walk alone and found himself back at Harry’s house. He sat on the porch and sang with him, then listened as Harry laughed with visitors. They always left with a smile.

The next day, he came by and found the football waiting for him. Harry was absolute rubbish at it, but they played for a bit anyway. He left sweaty in the good way no amount of digging would ever achieve.

It wasn’t a conscious choice, but going to Harry’s became a habit. He was there more days than not. Eventually Harry started having him help with little things, stringing up decorations for newborns in the early mornings or doing mindless tasks as they sang on the porch. It was easy. It was good. It made him smile.

One day, Liam paused while digging through particularly dense ground—full of roots and clay—and stared at Louis. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What?” Louis had to stop shoveling the dirt out of the hole to stare back at Liam.

“It’s okay—to be happy.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow. Of course it was okay to be happy. “What do you mean?”

Liam sighed and wiped his brow. “I’ve just been thinking about you a lot, and I think you don’t realize it’s okay to do things that are just to make you happy, even now in this weird world. And it’s okay to be happy, even though your mom’s not here to see it.”

Louis shrugged, but the weight of those words hit him hard. “Yeah, of course.”

Liam stared at him a second longer then sighed again. “I know you know what I mean. You gotta do more than just survive.”

“Yeah,” Louis mumbled. “It is what it is, but let’s make the best of it.” That was something else his mom used to say. He had the first part tattooed on his chest before tattoo shops went away with the rest of the life he once knew.

Liam smudged some dirt on Louis’ cheek with a mischievous smile. “That’s the spirit.”

No pipes were harmed in the tussle that followed.

~~~~

Louis took the long way to Harry’s so he could pass more fields. Spring flowers were just starting to bloom, and by the time he reached the dusty road where Harry lived, he had a full bouquet. Harry was where he always was in the evening—on his porch. Louis sat down beside Harry silently and reveled in the smile that spread across his face when his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” Louis said softly.

“Hey.”

“These are for you.” Louis thrust the bouquet out.

Harry chuckled at the awkward movement. “These are gorgeous! You must have had to look hard to find these all this early in the season.”

“I knew where to look.” Harry had shown him when things were first beginning to sprout.

Harry rested the flowers in his lap and smiled down at them. “Thank you.”

Louis licked his lips. He didn’t want to do this, but he also knew—deep down—that he did. “Harry?”

He looked up. “Yes?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

The most beautiful blush spread across his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good.” Louis mentally smacked himself for that response. “I mean, I’m glad, because I really want to kiss you.” Oh damn, that was much worse.

Harry didn’t seem to think so, though, if the look in his eyes was to be trusted. “I don’t hold out, you know. I even kiss _before_ the first date.”

Louis bit his lip and reached for Harry’s hand. Their fingers slipped together like they were made to be interlaced. “I might just have to kiss you, then.”

And Louis couldn’t take Harry out to eat or to the movies, but he could invite over the couple with the ukulele and dance the night away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please let me know! It means a lot. You can share this fic by [reblogging the post on Tumblr](https://larryatendoftheday.tumblr.com/post/618926635767463936/simplegifts).
> 
> If you had never heard of [an icehouse ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ice_house_\(building\))before this fic, you should read more about them! They are super weird and cool.


End file.
